


mighty current (you don't know what you do to me)

by anabsolution



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, literally 4k of smut amazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anabsolution/pseuds/anabsolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“God, Harry,” Louis groans, hips grinding down, “I missed this.” Harry realizes then just how to get rid of that itch deep in his bones. Because Harry knows exactly what Louis means. It’s not like they hadn’t gotten off in nine months since the tour started, because that would be impossible. It’s just. Well. He’s missed having this span of time with no urgent responsibilities except their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mighty current (you don't know what you do to me)

**Author's Note:**

> I tried really hard with this one and once I started I couldn't stop *simon cowell voice* simply incredible

It's barely been 10 hours since they hopped on a plane back to London, but Harry's been itching to just get home -- well, his unofficial home -- for most of that time. He doesn't even know why, because he's not usually like this. He typically is raring to go, high on adrenaline and excitement, much like now, but only because he has somewhere to be, something to do.

Maybe he’s still hyped up from the Halloween party the previous night. He’d dressed in nude spandex shorts, literally just that, and was so drunk he hardly remembers the night. It’s just a blur of grinding, pawing, deft hands stuffing inside his shorts and bringing him to climax in the middle of a club, waking up essentially stuck to the spandex from dried come. And paint. Lots of paint.

But now he doesn't really have to be anywhere and doesn't really have anything to do. And usually this would make him nervous, his schedule being wiped clean of any real responsibilities; so nervous, in fact, every other time, as soon as his plane touches down, he jumps on another, picking a random, new destination where he can spend his time and still feel like he's actually doing something. Apparently Harry doesn't bode well with lethargy and inertia.

But he's got Louis with him, for now, and it's actually so nice to be still for while, he thinks, as they sit beside each other on the plane. Louis dozed off about an hour ago, his head barely propped on his own shoulder. Harry didn't have the nerve in him to move him into a more comfortable position that wouldn't end in Louis getting crick neck for two reasons; one, historically, waking Louis up has never ended very well for anyone so he doesn't want to risk it, and two, their hands were clasped together when he fell asleep and Harry doesn't think he could part with that just yet.

When Louis and Harry do finally get home, Harry still feels that itch he originally thought would subside once he got home. Louis is just coming out of the shower and Harry watches him saunter in a white bathrobe, over to the couch where Harry's sitting, picking at a thread in the hole of his pants. Louis sits down directly beside Harry, folding his legs up against his chest, facing Harry. Louis smirks at him and nuzzles at Harry’s neck with his scruffy, unshaven chin. He playfully bites down on Harry’s collarbone and Harry unties Louis’s bathrobe, having it spill open, urging Louis onto his lap. He puts his hands through the bathrobe, roaming all over Louis’s waist and lower back, pulling him tighter against his chest, as Louis sucks a love bite just beneath Harry’s jaw.

“God, Harry,” Louis groans, hips grinding down, “I missed this.” Harry realizes then just how to get rid of that itch deep in his bones. Because Harry knows exactly what Louis means. It’s not like they hadn’t gotten off in nine months since the tour started, because that would be impossible. It’s just. Well. He’s missed having this span of time with no urgent responsibilities except their relationship. Save for that week in LA, where they spent half their time in bed just exploring each other endlessly, they haven’t had this much freedom to do literally anything they want together. And Harry very much wants use that freedom with Louis and only Louis for as long as possible.

Harry pulls back away from Louis and grins, arching an eyebrow towards the staircase. Louis rolls his eyes but smiles anyway, hopping off Harry’s lap to lead him up the stairs and to their bedroom.

“Well! Get your kit off, then, babe,” Louis bosses immediately as they walk into the room, hands on his hips. “I’m not gonna be the only one in the nude here, am I?”

Harry shakes his head softly, sitting on the bed and undoing the buttons on his flannel, as Louis searches in one of their bags for lube. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Louis throws the bottle by the pillows and cajoles Harry by kissing him softly on the lips once he’s finished undressing. “Lay back. Turn around.”

Harry looks at him wonderingly, freeing the covers from the mattress as he crawls up the bed and throwing them aside, but asks no questions. Louis answers him, anyway. “We have so much time, babe.” That seems to solace Harry enough.

Harry, not knowing what to do with his body exactly, rests his cheek against the back of his hands and lays flat against the bed. He hears the soft thud of what he presumes to be Louis’s bathrobe. He can feel Louis edge up between his knees, his hands massaging Harry’s calves, his breath ghosting against the back of Harry’s knee, then a soft kiss. It makes Harry want to both curl his leg up and grind down against the mattress at the same time.

Louis, each of his hands on the back of either of Harry’s knees, both kneading and holding his legs down, begins skating his teeth against Harry’s thigh, biting softly. Harry can feel himself getting hard already because Louis just does this to him, even just his breath, but it’s been so long since they’ve had this much time, energy and freedom, so just the thought of what’s to come is getting to him.

Louis’s kisses are sweet against Harry’s smooth skin, which Harry is thankful he’d shaven earlier in the week to make the spandex shorts slide on easier, or so he thought. Spreading Harry’s thighs a little further apart, Louis starts sucking a love bite extremely close to Harry’s bum, and Harry’s body goes warm all over. Louis’s scruff, his teeth, his fingers kneading softly into the flesh of his upper thighs is all Harry can focus on. He kisses him all down his meaty thigh, the sensations filling his cock right up.

Harry hums quietly as Louis’s hands rub down his legs, getting Harry worked up and malleable like dough. Then Louis is off, stuffing his hand beneath Harry’s stomach, lifting his hips up, and just that touch turns Harry’s insides to goo. He feels sort of weary already, moving slow like syrup.

Louis’s hand brushes against Harry’s cock, and Harry groans and halfheartedly shoves his hips towards empty air. “C’mon, Lou.”

Louis grins against the shell of Harry’s ear, lips ghosting. “Patience.”

Harry shudders and whines. “Kiss me, a’ least.” His head has been bursting from not having his lips on Louis since they stopped, and he thinks if his cock isn’t going to be touched, he can at the very least kiss Louis again.

Louis nods and helps flip Harry over. “I can do that.”

“Hi,” Harry breathes, inhaling Louis’s freshly showered scene, mouth sliding across Louis’s face. He pulls away to get a good look at Louis, admiring the fact that even after a relatively lengthy shower, he’s still got hints of blank paint around his eyes and fuck, he looks gorgeous. They both sort of watch each other’s faces, maybe becoming aware they can appreciate each other, and there’s no rush to get this done and over with.

Harry slips his eyes shut, realizing it is way too over stimulatory to be looking at Louis right now, and he lifts his face to Louis’s for a kiss. Louis plants his palms on the sides of Harry’s face, kissing the breath out of him, pulling him up and sucking on his bottom lip. He tugs at the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck and Harry moans, shifting his hips down between Louis’s legs and grinds upwards, forcing a groan out of Louis.

And Harry really has missed this so much. He fucking revels in what he has with Louis at any given time, appreciating every moment they have together. Making him smile, laugh, groan, want, need, come, love. But it’s been so long since he’s gotten to do all those things at once that he can’t even wrap his mind around it all happening right now. On their bed, no less, and not some dingy public restroom or cramped tour bus or messy dressing room.

Louis is all over him, his hands running down the flank of his chest, pressing against his throat, up into his hair, then back down to squeeze his bum. It’s like Louis can’t get enough of Harry to save his life. Which, well. Harry understands the feeling. They never can get close enough and he just needs Louis closer, closer, closer, on him always.

Harry pants as Louis starts pulling back, alternating between chaste kisses and taking time to rake his eyes over Harry’s blown out face. The scrutiny of Louis’s attention all over him goes straight to his cock, still hard and never getting enough friction.

“I love you so fucking much,” Louis mumbles unabashedly, almost unwittingly, pressing a long, unmoving kiss to Harry’s lips. “I don’t get to tell you that enough.” Harry reactionarily runs his thumbs across Louis’s cheekbones. He nods, throat constrained and words are suddenly too hard for him to use.

Louis mmms as he slides down the length of Harry’s body, his lips sliding along as well. Scruff scratching against Harry’s smooth expanse of skin, it makes Harry’s skin burn in the most arousing way possible. Louis pays special attention to the birds that litter Harry’s chest, his personal favorites, kissing them each. Harry runs a hand behind Louis’s ear and grins lazily at him.

He feels on fire as Louis presses his teeth, one of the little vampire ones, against his nipple, scraping gently enough to send Harry in a tizzy. Harry throws his head back and all he can pay attention to is Louis’s mouth on him, which distracts him from Louis’s hand that’s palming down Harry’s stomach and suddenly wrapping around his leaking cock that’s been unattended to. Louis begins stroking as he works his mouth on Harry’s sensitive nipples.

“Fuck,” Harry spits, arching. He feels Louis smirk against his chest.

Louis takes his mouth off his nipple and slinks down to Harry’s crotch. He traces his lips against the head of Harry’s cock as he palms it up and down. Harry almost loses it right when Louis wraps his lips around the head and sucks. He swirls his tongue around and works his throat open with Harry’s cock, taking him halfway down.

Harry’s eyes go cross, trying to get a good look at Louis, watching his fringe fall and cover his face. Harry lifts a hand to Louis’s head and holds his hair aside as Louis opens his mouth more, further pronouncing the jut of his cheekbones. Louis moans sinfully, albeit exaggeratedly, sending vibrations all through his body, most importantly, his cock. Harry’s full out moaning at this point, trying to keep his hips still because he knows Louis doesn’t like his mouth fucked when he’s trying to concentrate on sucking him off. Louis helps by holding his hips down, but it becomes counterproductive when he chances a glance up at Harry, bobbing his head up and down. Suddenly he just wants to fuck his mouth and make his eyes water. The mental image alone almost sends Harry over the edge.

“Oh my God,” Harry groans as soon as he makes eye contact with Louis because what the fuck. Louis is possibly the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen on a regular day, how is it fair he’s this stunning with a dick in his mouth, too? And Louis seems to know what Harry is thinking, too, that he’s right on the edge, because he closes his eyes, long eyelashes fluttering, and takes Harry all the way down, which is an extremely rare act. Harry’s brain might turn to mush.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna come, L-Lou,” Harry pants, tugging at Louis’s hair. Louis nods quickly, shaking Harry’s hand out of his hair, only further adding to the suction around his cock, and Harry comes so hard he thinks he sees stars. Louis holds his mouth around Harry’s head for as long as possible, sucking the last of Harry’s come down and pulling off with a dirty slurp.

Harry smiles tiredly, bones feeling like jelly and he knows it’s hardly over because Louis’s been hard for so long, hasn’t even gotten off and Harry needs to change that as soon as possible.

Harry grabs the lube that’s been resting beside him, eyes never leaving Louis’s face. Louis watches him curiously and starts to grab the bottle out of Harry’s hands, but Harry pulls it away and shakes his head.

“No, I’ll do it. You watch.”

Louis swallows harshly, eyes turning dark with want. And fuck if that doesn’t spur Harry on enough to get his fingers lubed up faster, characteristically fumbling with the bottle cap.

Louis’s still sitting on his haunches between Harry’s legs, and Harry spreads his knees apart, slowing inching his fingers around his still sensitive cock and behind his balls. He plants his heels firmly on the mattress and lifts his hips up and gingerly pushes one finger in his hole, all while keeping his eyes on Louis’s, whose own are concentrated directly on Harry’s finger working.

Louis seems entranced and Harry decides to make it worth his while, so he focuses on stretching his hole to allow for another finger to help find that bundle of nerves that makes him lose his mind. His heart is pounding with Louis watching so intensely, so he closes his eyes and nudges a second finger in beside the first. He pants at the burning stretch, grinding down against his fingers, shoving them further inside himself and there is it. He gasps so suddenly it takes Louis out of his trance. Harry tries reaching for that spot again, digging inside himself and gets frustrated when he can’t reach it again, lifting his hips and down. Exasperatedly, he croaks, “I-- I can’t, I can’t.”

Louis absentmindedly takes the lube and lathers his own fingers, never once taking his eyes off Harry while he continues searching.

“Lemme,” Louis motions for Harry to move his hand and Harry does so without complaint, breathing heavy. He wipes his fingers against the sheen of sweat that’s accumulated on his chest and lets Louis take control.

He sighs sweetly, a smile plastered on his face, when Louis rubs two fingers against his hole and presses firmly inside, a little bit of resistance because though shorter, Louis’s own fingers are thicker. That doesn’t prevent him from being able to hit that spot inside Harry though because he does so a second later, shooting arousal all through Harry’s body, but mostly his cock.

“Oh, shit, oh, shit,” he rasps weakly.

“There?” Louis asks, as if he doesn’t know, pressing again, with more force.

“Fuck, yes, there,” Harry answers, gasping sharply, arching off the bed, because he doesn’t have the brain matter to give Louis a sardonic reply anymore. “Lou, Louis. More.”

Louis twists his fingers around and adds a third, turning them and stretching Harry out, lunging back inside and forcing them against Harry’s nerves, sending Harry into involuntary, continuous moans. Harry rolls his head against the pillow, exposing his neck. Louis leans forward and sucks heartily on Harry’s jugular, all while continuing his slow jabs inside Harry. Harry’s stomach rolls and burns, feeling Louis’s tongue on his neck. He pulls his knees up, making more room for Louis between, and something about that movement allows Louis to speed up his hand.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Harry blurts erratically as Louis scissors his fingers, pummeling them in and out. Harry can’t even feel his body anymore, he thinks it’s going to explode. His breathing is turning to hiccup-like gasps and pants, he literally can’t catch his breath.

Louis places a palm on Harry’s waist, massaging him there to give him comfort, but all it does send Harry’s insides into a panic, twisting and burning and crying out for Louis to just fuck him right now.

Which he must be doing. Crying out for Louis to fuck him right now, anyway, because Louis sounds vexed when he affirms, “Alright, alright.”

Louis slides his fingers out as slow as humanly possible and Harry is so out of it at this point, he just whines. “Shit, Louis, please, fuck me.” He feels so empty now and he hates it and he wants Louis’s cock inside him right now.

Louis lubes his own hard and neglected cock up and practically lurches forward onto Harry when he touches himself because he’s let it go ignored until just now. He straightens up and aligns himself against a desperate, sweat riddled Harry and pushes into him slowly, but unrelentingly. Harry moans all the way through.

Harry feels like he’s having an out of body experience, with Louis pressing his face into the crook of his neck, suckling. Louis’s thrusting into him with vigor, making every nerve in his body become hypersensitive and pleasurable. He wraps his legs around Louis’s waist, digging into Louis’s lower back with the heels of his feet. When Louis drives into that most carnal spot, Harry lashes his head against the pillow and practically rips the sheets off the mattress, white-knuckling, gripping them.

Louis leans up on elbows, placing them beneath Harry’s underarms, and starts kissing Harry in earnest, cutting a moan right off. They’re hardly kissing though, mostly breathing into one another’s mouths, but it’s enough to console Harry into normal breathing. Louis’s belly is pressing firmly against Harry’s cock and with every thrust, he brings Harry closer and closer along with the friction. Harry’s eyes are watering and he barely has a voice even when he cries out that he’s gonna come, breaking away from a heated kiss.

Louis shake his head no and quickly pulls out of Harry, who makes a whine from deep in his throat at the loss.

“Scoot up,” he tells Harry, nodding his head upwards towards the headboard.

Harry obliges, fumbling up the bed like a drunk, leaning his back against the headboard. Louis, still not happy with how Harry positioned himself, grabs Harry by the waist and pulls him back down a bit, so Harry’s neck is uncomfortably pressing against the headboard. Harry won’t complain, but Louis places a pillow behind Harry for comfort anyway.

Louis leans back to view and Harry smiles at him dazedly. Louis wraps his hands gently around each of Harry’s ankles. Louis gives him a full grin back, kissing him on the ankle before pressing Harry’s legs up against his chest. And Harry loves that, the burn in his thighs from his body bending, loves being folded and bent and made to be smaller than he really is. But right now, he just really wants Louis back inside him.

Louis loves it, too, Harry knows, because this position typically allows him to fuck Harry faster with more enthusiasm, usually so he can reach climax immediately after Harry, if not before.

But this time, Louis, with each of his hands now resting between Harry’s bent knees, pushing Harry’s legs further, has another idea. He looks down where he’s supposed to meet Harry’ s rim, and lightly presses the head of his cock against it. This position makes it hard for Harry to grind down and suck Louis in, which he would’ve done immediately, so all he can do is just whinge pathetically.

Louis does enter Harry for a moment, just slightly, and then pulls out. He does this again and again until Harry’s face is red hot, wanting to cry.

“God,” Harry groans, rolling his neck, “will you just--”

And then Louis shoves inside him forcefully, sending Harry’s eyes to roll back. He pulls out slowly, though, and pushes back inside. He starts really fucking Harry agonizingly slow, letting Harry feel every inch of him and Harry does. This angle makes it easy for him to hit Harry’s prostate so he intentionally rubs up against it once he finds the nerve that makes Harry coo and beg for more.

The burn in Harry’s legs start to be painful, so he lays them over Louis’s shoulders. Louis leans forward over Harry’s chest, which makes the movement redundant, but he finally starts fucking Harry, rough and quick, again, making obscene sounds with the skin of his hips slapping Harry’s arse. Harry has been teetering on the edge for a while, the tightness in his stomach, the well in his balls, and he knows he’s going to come.

And Louis knows, too, so he reaches between their bodies, runs a hand up Harry’s shaft. He plays with the head of Harry’s cock, and Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wants to keep being fucked, but he also really, really wants to come.

“Go ahead, babe,” Louis allows then, as if reading Harry’s mind, thrusting into him one, two, three more times and Harry comes, white hot across their stomachs.

Harry melts into the mattress, legs falling down and body going slack, and lets Louis fuck him purposefully until he reaches his own climax. Harry squeezes his rim tightly for Louis. It takes him a few more thrusts, almost making it hurt Harry. It’s not until Harry drawls his name in a fucked out voice that he’s coming inside Harry.

Louis pulls out gingerly and Harry winces a bit, feeling abandoned at the sudden emptiness, after having grown used to the feeling of wholeness Louis inside him allowed, but he closes his eyes, feeling all blissed out and relaxed. He expects Louis to crawl up beside him, into his arms for a snuggle but he never comes. Instead, he feels a slight pressure against his rim again and he shoots his eyes open and yelps.

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis emits quietly, pulling his hand away.

“No,” Harry whispers, worn out, wrapping his hand around Louis’s wrist and urging it back between his legs. “No, it’s okay.”

Louis smiles. “You’re too much.”

Harry blushes, but quickly the heat in his cheeks spread across his entire body as Louis presses a finger into him without much warning. Harry is loose enough as it is and Louis can’t stop stretching him out more and Harry doesn’t even know if it’s possible he could come another time tonight but his cock seems to think otherwise, hardening up a bit against his sticky stomach.

Louis adds another finger, scissoring them and driving them against Harry’s prostate and Harry cries out, the pleasure overriding the previous sensitivity. It feels like his pounding heart is making his entire body beat along with it, vibrating with want and need and Louis. Harry grapples for any sort of purchase to keep him tethered to this experience because he thinks he might just die. And then Louis amps it up a notch.

“I wanna…” he trails off, voice coming in hazy to Harry’s ears.

“Wanna?” Harry can barely pay attention, with Louis’s now three fingers sliding in and out of him without yield. They’re pumping into him with such ease, making obscene sounds, and Harry feels impossibly tight and loose at the same time.

“Taste.”

Harry opens his eyes and looks at Louis, maybe to measure his seriousness. Harry himself doesn’t think he could ever sound more sincere when he begs, nodding as earnestly as he can manage, “Please, yes, please, anything you want.”

Louis has his face down between Harry’s legs faster than he could finish his response and Harry doesn’t think he could be more thankful when Louis flicks his tongue around beside his fingers, fucking him faster for added pleasure.

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry hisses, inattentively shoving his bum against Louis’s mouth. That’s all the encouragement Louis needs before removing his fingers and licking around Harry’s hole.

Harry’s whole brain is just shouting _HolyShitHolyShitHolyShit_ and he doubts it could get better than this right before Louis’s tongue is actually inside him. His legs go numb, thighs quivering, his whole body wracking. Louis speeds up the pace of his skillful tongue and Harry actually begins crying. He feels absolutely nothing else but the slick determination of Louis’s tongue in him. Harry has no idea what to do with himself, restless on the sheets, flinging around, because he wants more of Louis, moremoremore, but how much more could he get?

Louis seems to know what he’s doing, too, or he’s just a real natural at it. Or, more accurately, Harry has no idea what the real purpose of this act is suppose to be and whatever it is Louis is doing, whether novice or not, is fucking amazing.

Harry isn’t even aware he’s doing it but his own fingers end up massaging his hole as Louis works his tongue inside and out, and around. But Louis slides his own hand up the length of Harry’s legs and intertwines it with Harry’s, both to move it out of the way and to give Harry security.

With his opposite hand, Louis moves his fingers back into Harry along with his tongue and applies pressure to Harry’s prostate. Sweet pleasure courses its way up Harry’s spine, forcing Harry to tighten his grip on Louis’s hand, and he doesn’t even have the ability to form words anymore. He croaks, like his vocal chords were cut in the middle of all this, and then comes, almost dry, all up his chest for the third time that night.

Louis still licks into him until Harry becomes actually sore, tugging on Louis's hair.

Both of them are sweaty and breathless when Louis curls up facing Harry’s chest. He pushes the hair across Harry’s sticky forehead, out of his face. Louis turns around to spoon after wiping tear stains across of Harry’s face, shushing him sweetly all the while. Harry feels weighted, his body like lead.

Harry trails soft kisses across Louis’s shoulder with a heavy head and murmurs in a gruff voice, “You’re way too good for me, you know?”

Louis makes an affronted and disgruntled noise, but nuzzles his body against Harry’s in response.

When Harry wraps his arms tightly around Louis’s waist, he remembers Louis only got off once during the night. After Harry voices that thought, Louis brazenly comments, “You can ride me awake in the morning. If you’re up for it.”

Fuck. Harry might be hard. Again.


End file.
